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Bonus chapter! Thank you to JustSomeOne for the donation! ^^
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The villagers didn't leave even after being discovered. They simply stood in the courtyard watching Ruan Qing. Perhaps sensing this wasn't quite appropriate, the newcomers began helping the original two villagers hang the white funeral banners.
As if they had come solely to assist.
But the courtyard was already mostly decorated, and there were hardly any white banners left to hang.
The villagers could only pretend to adjust the already-hung banners, working with unprecedented diligence.
The villager who had spoken earlier wasn't offended by Ruan Qing ignoring him. He stared fixedly at Ruan Qing and earnestly corrected him:
"Our Miao Village doesn't have a tradition of bearing sons."
Clearly, the villagers had no intention of hiding that they'd been eavesdropping. As he spoke, his gaze slowly drifted downward.
"Besides, someone like you...could you even get someone pregnant?"
His words immediately drew all the villagers' attention back to Ruan Qing—specifically, downward.
The remark was incredibly offensive, but his tone held no mockery or inflection, as if he were simply voicing genuine curiosity.
Yet regardless of tone, such words would enrage any man, especially when accompanied by so many staring eyes.
Ruan Qing's face darkened. He grabbed a nearby cup and hurled it at the window.
CRASH—!!!
The glass shattered.
Fragments scattered everywhere, some even flying toward the villagers outside. But the villager seemed to have anticipated this, tilting his head to dodge effortlessly.
Ruan Qing didn't care whether he'd hit anyone. Glaring furiously at the speaker, he spat coldly, "Whether I can get someone pregnant is none of your damn business!"
"Get lost!"
The villagers froze again—because the angrier the young man became, the more breathtaking he looked.
His exquisite features, the faint redness at the corners of his eyes, the blazing fury in his beautiful gaze—every detail was stunning.
It was a kind of beauty like flowers in full bloom, radiant to the point of near decay.
Coupled with the disheveled white cloth tied around his forehead, its pale gray pressed against his fair skin, he exuded an intoxicating allure that seemed to seep from his very bones.
Flowers in their most dazzling bloom always stirred a desire to pluck and possess them.
So this was the village chief's son?
He was...unbearably beautiful.
Beautiful enough to make one's heart feel...uncomfortable.
The villagers averted their gaze unnaturally, blaming it on their sleepless night.
The village chief's death was a significant event for Miao Village.
The villagers who came this morning had all been assigned tasks, and none dared delay any longer. They quickly dispersed to attend to their respective duties.
The two who had been hanging white mourning banners finished their task and had no reason to stay. The crowded courtyard emptied in an instant.
Ruan Qing heaved a quiet sigh of relief. He walked to the window and swiftly drew the curtains.
These villagers were too strange - their stares gave him an intensely unsettling feeling.
After closing the curtains, Ruan Qing found a charging cable and tried to charge his phone.
But when he plugged it in, nothing happened.
His phone wasn't the problem - the issue had to be with either the cable or the power strip.
Upon inspection, he discovered the power strip's cord had been chewed through. The bite marks looked fresh, as if it had just happened.
Rats?
Although Miao Village was quite backward, rats were extremely rare here. The original owner had never seen one in all his years growing up.
The bite marks didn't provide any clues, and there were no other traces in the room. Ruan Qing had no choice but to give up.
There wasn't another power strip in the original owner's room.
Hiding behind the curtains, Ruan Qing carefully checked outside. Only after confirming the courtyard was truly empty did he open his door.
Both the original owner's mother's room and the mourning hall where the body lay had power strips.
After a moment's hesitation, Ruan Qing decided to head toward his mother's room.
The door was locked.
Ruan Qing frowned almost imperceptibly. The original owner's mother had died in this very room, with the original owner present at the time. When he left, the door had still been open.
So who had locked it?
It was a simple wooden door with an old-fashioned lock that would be easy to pick.
Ruan Qing found a piece of wire and inserted it into the keyhole. Just as he was about to pick the lock, a faint sound came from inside the room.
The noise was so quiet that one could easily miss it if not paying attention.
Ruan Qing's hand froze. He peered through the door crack and saw a shadowy figure dart across the room in the next second.
Ruan Qing's eyes widened, his pupils contracting as he instinctively stumbled back several steps, his heart nearly stopping in his chest.
The figure bore an uncanny resemblance to the original owner's mother.
The original owner's mother had been skeletal and dark-skinned from illness, appearing like a woman on death's doorstep despite being only in her forties.
Yet she had moved with startling speed, never showing any sign of frailty—not even on the morning of the day she died.
Her death had been inevitable, yet it still came abruptly.
And now, the figure in the room looked exactly as the mother had in life.
But the original owner's mother was dead. Her body lay in the coffin in the mourning hall.
So who—or what—was in that room?
Ruan Qing's heartbeat grew erratic. No matter how many scenarios he had survived, his fear of ghosts never truly faded.
Staring at the door, he silently retreated before turning toward the mourning hall.
The hall was nearly set up, though no one was there now. Ruan Qing found an outlet and plugged in his phone to charge.
He didn't call back—that wouldn't fit the original owner's character. He could only wait for the other party to contact him again.
Stealing discreet glances around, he took in the vast mourning hall, larger than his and his mother's rooms combined, now draped entirely in white.
Even in broad daylight, the place felt oppressive.
The coffin sat solemnly in the center, paper money burning in front of it. The flames cast a flickering glow against the dark wood, an eerie shimmer that unsettled the stomach.
The entire Miao Village carried this same suffocating atmosphere.
Finding nothing unusual after several careful surveys, Ruan Qing finally fixed his gaze on the coffin—and a reckless idea took root.
It was still daytime. Even if ghosts lurked, they wouldn't be at their most dangerous yet.
His throat moved soundlessly as he inched toward the coffin, each step like treading on knives. Sweat dampened his palms, his entire body taut with tension.
The Miao Village practiced traditional burials, where family prepared the deceased's appearance before interment. That meant the coffin lid hadn't been sealed yet.
Ruan Qing's hand settled on the lid. Gritting his teeth, he shut his eyes and drew a deep, steadying breath.
Just as he was about to exert force with his hand, a completely flat voice sounded from behind him.
"What are you doing?"
The man's voice appeared abruptly, without any footsteps, as if he had materialized out of thin air.
Startled by the sudden voice, Ruan Qing felt his hair stand on end and nearly bolted on instinct.
Forcing himself to stay calm, he let a gloomy, sorrowful expression settle over his delicate features before turning to face the person behind him.
It was only natural for a son to visit the mourning hall after his mother's sudden death.
Standing at the entrance of the mourning hall was a strikingly handsome man—handsome in a way that didn’t seem to belong to a villager.
When Ruan Qing turned around, the man’s gaze paused briefly. He frowned slightly, walking into the hall as he asked with clear confusion, "Who are you?"
The man didn’t exist in Ruan Qing’s memories. Without looking at him, Ruan Qing turned slightly to face the coffin again and casually gave his name.
"Miao Qing."
His tone was dismissive, and he didn’t bother asking the man’s name in return—clearly uninterested in conversation.
Most villagers in Miao Village had never seen the village chief’s son but knew his name was Miao Qing.
The man was no exception.
He had heard the name "Miao Qing" before, but this was his first time seeing the person.
And this person was nothing like he had imagined. There was no trace of filth, no taint of corruption, not even the slightest hint of decay clinging to him.
He didn’t even carry the scent of Miao Village.
Pure and unblemished, like a magnolia blooming in the mud—so white it seemed untouched by dust.
The man stopped in front of the youth, his gaze involuntarily lingering.
The boy was standing sideways to him, so the man could only see his profile—delicate, almost unnervingly perfect.
Perhaps from crying over his mother’s death, the boy’s eyes were tinged with faint red at the corners, his long, curled lashes casting shifting shadows under his eyes. He looked like a lifelike porcelain doll.
No—even more beautiful than that.
The man shared the common trait of Miao Village’s residents: he usually avoided idle chatter. But this time, as if something in him had changed, he spoke up unprompted.
"I heard your mother arranged a few blind dates for you?"
Ruan Qing placed his hand on the coffin but didn't open it directly. It would be inappropriate to lift his mother's coffin lid in front of outsiders - even the original owner wouldn't have done such a thing.
Moreover, given the original owner's arrogant personality, he wouldn't have wanted anyone to witness his vulnerability.
But he certainly wouldn't enjoy making small talk with villagers he despised, especially not about a blind date he equally detested.
Ruan Qing found it strange. This wasn't the first time the villagers had asked about his blind date. Based on their usual attitude, they wouldn't normally keep bringing it up. And before her death, his mother had also constantly emphasized the blind date.
Was there something wrong with this arranged match?
Lowering his eyes to conceal his thoughts, Ruan Qing let impatience show on his face as he gave a perfunctory nod. "Yeah."
Hearing this, the man felt an uncomfortable twinge in his chest. His gaze darkened slightly. "Are they already on their way?"
Though his tone remained unchanged, there was an undercurrent of danger in his words that sent chills down one's spine.
Ruan Qing's heart skipped a beat. He always trusted his instincts, so he avoided answering directly.
He shot the man a cold glare, his impatience now unmistakable. "None of your business."
The man's eyes lingered on the teardrop mole at the corner of Ruan Qing's eye. Almost as if compelled, he took several steps forward, closing the distance between them abruptly.
They were now standing far too close for strangers. The man's tall frame loomed over him with undeniable pressure.
Looking down at Ruan Qing, the man spoke with unsettling seriousness: "Miao Village doesn't allow its people to marry out."
Ruan Qing had tensed up the moment the man approached. These words seemed to ignite his temper. "Who's marrying out?" he exploded, shoving the man angrily. "Learn how to speak properly!"
"I'm bringing someone in, not going out!"
